Page 95 of Red's Peril: Part 1

No member was pulled over and searched, not here, nor in Colorado. While we took extra care and precautions, the danger seemed to have passed. Then there came a time when a whole day would go by, and Skull’s name wasn’t even mentioned.

The only thing of note was when I got word Tide had been shanked in the penitentiary, and that this time, he hadn’t survived. Despite us getting him protection, it was far from the first time he’d been attacked inside. The mood was sombre when I announced the news at the table, but only Titch seemed genuinely upset. For myself, it was a problem solved. While when I’d first discussed him around this table many years back, his ever getting out seemed so remote and distant it wasn’t worth worrying about. But now he’s served half of his twenty-year sentence, it’s possible his remaining time will pass just as fast. Now we won’t have to worry about stripping his patch and there would be no appetite for anything else, the legacy he’d left on the club had caused too many problems. His death means he’s now firmly in a box labelled never again to be worried about.

I’m busy enough that I like a quiet life, one where I can concentrate on making money for the club, and even, when I’ve time, tinkering with cars and bikes in the shop, never having lost my love of working with engines and such shit.

Brothers seem to have settled down, and I only have to manage minor disputes between them.

But when you’ve reached stasis, the universe likes to throw in a curve ball, and that came to our door one day in the shape of a tall, willowy blonde.

“What the fuck?” Crash angrily exclaims when the clubhouse door had opened to reveal her standing there. “What the hell is she doing here?” He takes a step toward her before I can move myself. “Ishewith you?”

I notice Crash’s hands on his gun, so I move in fast, getting in front of him and moving him back.

“Clare.”

She looks down at the floor, then seems to brace herself. Her eyes rise to meet mine, and shyly she asks, “You offered to help me?”

“I did.” But as I confirm it, my eyes crease and I take a step forward. Raising my hand, I touch her chin and gently move her face so the light falls on her. My jaw clenches. “He hit you?”

Her eyes blink away tears. “I don’t know who he is anymore,” she starts, then corrects, “Or whether I knew him at all. But I’m scared, Red. I’ve nowhere to go—”

“Where’s the kid?” I ask tightly.

“She’s outside, in the car—”

“In the fuckin’ car?” I push past her and am out the door hearing footsteps following in my wake. I breathe a sigh of relief when I see the car’s parked so the backseat is in the shade. The engine’s running and the air-conditioning going full blast, and in a child carrier, there’s a kid asleep.

“I only left her for a moment.” Clare sounds defensive.

“I was watching out for her,” Owl, our prospect states.

I go to the driver’s side, open the door, turn off the engine and take her keys out. Then return to the passenger side and open the rear door. Hell, that’s a cute little kid. Carefully, I unbuckle the belt. She wakes as I disturb her.

I pause, I’m a strange man, is she going to cry? But instead, those eyelashes flutter, and I silently laugh, knowing in the future she’ll be breaking a few hearts. When I lift her, she makes no murmur. And when I try to hand her to her mother, she protests and turns her head toward my cut.

Clare stares, as if surprised.

“What can I say?” I tell her, grinning widely. “All girls love a biker.” Then to Owl, I instruct, “Bring any bags she has in.”

“Does this mean we can stay?” Her face is now full of hope.

I jostle my burden to make sure I’ve a tight grip on her. “It means we’ll give you sanctuary. For now.”

Do I trust her? I have to consider that she could be following in her husband’s footsteps, infiltrating our club to dig up dirt. I have to consider it, but it won’t take much to dismiss it. The authorities might plant one woman perhaps, but not a woman with a kid in tow.

“I figured here is the one place he won’t look for me.”

I can’t totally suppress my snort at her explanation. Yeah, a fed wouldn’t expect his civilian wife to run to an outlaw MC for help. Alternatively, though, as we couldn’t seek revenge on him, he might wonder if we’ve taken his wife to punish him. But a problem can’t cause much harm, as long as I can see it coming and mitigate against it.

Still carrying her daughter, I lead the way back inside. As we do, I casually ask, “This a temporary reprieve to make him come to his senses?”

“No.” Her footsteps stop, making me spin around. “As God’s my witness, no. I’m going to divorce him, Red. This,” she points to her eye, “was the last straw. That business with the woman, he didn’t care that he’d fathered a kid. Didn’t care what happened to it. If that’s how he feels, what if he decides he doesn’t want her?” She gestures toward the squirming bundle I’m carrying. “What if he hitsher?He’s not the man I thought I married.” I start walking again, and she comes up beside me. “The truth is, with his work, he’s been working away most of our married life. My husband was someone who didn’t exist. When he’d come home, having been away for months, I’d notice he’d seemed different, less interested in me. When I challenged him, he’d say he was tired, and needed to recuperate. When the truth is, I was no longer exciting. Not when he could fuck whoever he wanted while he was working.”

“Hey, Rosa?” I call out when we reach the bar.

With a smile, she turns and hurries over, reaching out her hand to touch the babe in my arms. “And who do we have here?” She beams, all her focus on the kid, and none on the woman.

But that doesn’t matter to Clare, who, seeing the motherly figure, seems to relax. There’s pride in her voice as she explains, “This is Cordelia, though we call her Delly.”

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